


Switch

by round_robin



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Swap, F/M, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg are in Cahoots, M/M, Magic, Magic Gone Wrong, Pegging, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24466465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin
Summary: Jaskier stood up and made his way over to them, hips swinging. The energy around him was fractured, and he didn't smell right, Yen didn't either. “Jaskier interrupted a spell I was trying and our consciousnesses switched. Should wear off in a few hours. In the mean time...” Jaskier opened the very loose ties on his breeches and pulled his cock out, stroking it lewdly, right in front of Yennefer. “We agreed to have a little fun until the spell wears off. Take off your clothes.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 24
Kudos: 231





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**Author's Note:**

> My husband and I have a TV arrangement, he watches my favorite shows if I watch his favorite shows and we alternate nights. I have him watching Supernatural, and on his nights we watch anime he likes. His favorite is JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, the single gayest anime in the entire world where half of the fans think it's Totally Straight (TM) No Homo About It, Bro. Long story short: there's an episode in the part five where two characters (Mista and Trish) switch bodies and learn things about each other and become better friends. It's actually adorable, but you can bet, through that whole episode, I couldn't stop myself from thinking "what would Jaskier and Yennefer do if they switched bodies? Probably fuck Geralt." So here's that.
> 
> My view of Jaskier and Yennefer isn't one of attraction, mostly they know how to live with each other and put aside their differences to achieve a mutually beneficial goal. They are in cahoots when it comes to fucking Geralt.
> 
> I love that the entire fandom has decided that, not only does every woman in the Witcher peg, but most of them peg Geralt. That being said, I own exactly one strap on, it's not fancy or cool, it gets the job done. If anyone thinks I missed something, feel free to let me know. Small warning: a few uses of the word cunt, because I like the punch it has and it's just a really good word. They're all self-referential, not insulting.
> 
> Last thing: I looked up historical sex toys (because my brain wants me to keep this vaguely medieval) and copper dildos were definitely a thing. Again, if anyone has a better idea, I'm happy to hear about it. All mistakes are my fault, let me know if you find a typo and I'll fix it. Enjoy :)

The smallest hint of lilac and gooseberries had Geralt across the town square at a moment's notice, leaving Jaskier holding Roach's reins. He rolled his eyes and joined his Witcher at the notice board.

Yennefer was a reality Jaskier learned to live with. She had her own agenda and generally kept out of their way, so he couldn't be too grumpy when their paths crossed every half decade or so. Geralt pulled her sheet from the notice board and showed it to Jaskier. “Yen's in town.”

“You don't say.”

Geralt's lips turned down. “It's a good job. An _easy_ job.”

“It's never easy when she's involved,” Jaskier sighed, but read the notice.

_Wanted: experienced herbologist or similar to gather ingredients. Legitimate inquiries only._

Well, Geralt would certainly count as an experienced herbologist. He was better than most mages. Jaskier flapped a hand. “Lead on, let us get our easy coin.”

Yennefer's lodgings were lavish, as expected, and once Geralt made sure there wasn't a drugged mayor or alderman in the house, that she had an actual rental agreement with the estate, they went inside. Geralt didn't much care how Yennefer came across her housing, but he learned a long time ago: the more he knew about her situation, the fewer surprises later on.

They found her lounging in the master suite of the two story guest house, black silk dressing gown hanging off one shoulder, the smell of lilac and gooseberries perfuming the room. She caught sight of them in the mirror and a smile curled her lips. “Didn't think my notice would attract such experience.”

Geralt came to a stop just inside her door, Jaskier behind his shoulder. He didn't want to be any closer to Yennefer than he had to, and Geralt had learned his lessons about getting ensnared by her charms before the job was done. “Coin is coin. What ingredients do you need?”

It was a milk run, climb a ridge, collect a certain flower with the thorns in tact, collect payment. And it was quite a lot of payment. A suspicious person might say too much. Geralt didn't let it bother him. He folded the map Yen provided and tucked it into his gambeson. “I'll be back before sunset.” He turned towards the door, Jaskier hot on his heels. Geralt stopped again and nudged him away. “You don't need to come. There's no ballad to be had from this, I'm collecting plants.”

“But what am I supposed to do?” The idea of spending the day with Yennefer was... not how Jaskier wanted to pass the time.

The sorceress appeared to be of the same mind. With a flip of her too beautiful hair, she peered at Jaskier over her shoulder. “It's a big house, go pluck at your lute in the garden, if that pleases you.”

It didn't sound terrible... “Fine.” Jaskier waved Geralt off. “Go, collect boring, non-musical ingredients. We won't kill each other.”

Geralt's eyes slid over to Yennefer, still looking in her mirror, not at him. “Any chance of getting the same promise from you?”

With a deep sigh, she nodded. “I've grown beyond such whims. Your minstrel is safe with me.”

Jaskier's jaw fell open, hot anger crawling up the back of his neck. “Minstrel? I'll have you know, _witch_ , I am far more highly regarded than a street singer!”

Geralt left them to it. He'd known Jaskier long enough to recognize when he was truly angry or just a little put off. Yennefer might spend the day needling at him, but Jaskier could hold his own. They both had sharp tongues that got them in trouble far too often, dragging him with them most of the time.

In truth, Jaskier could come with him... but the idea of five peaceful hours with his own fucking thoughts was too tempting to pass up. Yes, Geralt was playing with fire leaving them together, but part of him really didn't care. They could manage for a few hours. He hoped.

~

After Jaskier enlightened Yennefer on the difference between what he did—perform in taverns and at festivals, give lectures, all to adoring crowds who wanted more—and a fucking minstrel—played street corners for pittance—she waved him away.

“Whatever you call yourself, do it somewhere else. I need peace and quiet for my work.”

“Oh yes, very important sitting and preening.”

Yennefer turned to glare at him, the kohl around her eyes so sharp, it might slice his throat. “I'm working on a very important spell, and I will not be interrupted.” She turned on the chaise lounge and started towards him. Bare feet slid along the gleaming floor and Jaskier found his eyes traveling up her shapely legs, silky robe sweeping aside with each step. Why were the dangerous ones always so beautiful? “I see your distrust of me doesn't keep you from ogling.”

“I can appreciate the beauty of a poisonous flower without eating it and letting it kill me.”

A small smile flashed across Yennefer's lips, a real one, not those little fake purses of the lip she threw at idiots too stupid to see how dangerous she was. “That may be, but ogle later, get out now. I need silence.”

“Fine, I'll go to the fucking garden. Don't blow yourself up with your _silence_.” Jaskier turned and left the room, searching for a garden or garden-like area. She was a terrible sexy hag, but it was a good idea. He hadn't had any quiet composing time for a long while. Yes, Geralt was good at finding bucolic meadows to camp in, but he never let them stick around long enough for Jaskier to enjoy the beauty. It was his own fault all Jaskier's songs were about Geralt, he was the most beautiful scenery the bard was consistently around.

Jaskier spent a few peaceful hours trying out different cords and making notes in his composition book, the lovely spring sunshine filtering through the large windows of the solarium. “She does know how to pick the spots...” Jaskier mumbled to himself.

After he put the finishing touches on his newest ballad, Jaskier stood and stretched, ready to break for lunch. There had to be a kitchen in this monstrosity of a house. He turned down a hall that looked promising and ended up in a sitting room. Jaskier peered around and saw some interesting books to peruse later, but his stomach growled, louder than before. There was a door at the side of the sitting room that looked like it connected to a dining room, dining rooms were usually near the kitchen...

This door led to a library. Nice, but once again unhelpful. Jaskier wandered around for the next five minutes before he gave up. “Fuck, now I have to ask her.”

He retraced his steps and got back to the front hall and the giant staircase up to the bedrooms. The door to the master bedroom was cracked open, so whatever Yennefer was doing that required “silence” must be finished. While he never imagined a world where he'd break bread with the insane (but so very sexy) witch, stranger things did happen.

He opened the door and spotted Yennefer looming over a glowing circle of sand poured on top of a table, like an overlarge crow. “Where the fuck is the kitchen?” Jaskier called across the room.

Yennefer's eyes snapped up to him, her mouth twisting into a horrible grimace. “No! Get out—”

A white light filled the room, so bright, Jaskier threw a hand over his eyes, heat pushing against his skin. He opened his mouth to scream and nothing came out.

~

Yennefer thought herself a great sorceress, and she was. When it came to spells, potions, capturing creatures of chaotic darkness, she was first rate. When it came to describing land formations, she was a bit lacking. The ridge she sent Geralt to wasn't so much a ridge as a craggy cliff thirty feet up from the sea. But he found the plants she needed and gathered enough for whatever fell magics she wanted to try. Geralt really should start asking one of these days.

He opened the door to her lodgings and froze. A crackle in the air sizzled across Geralt's nerves—magic. Strong magic. It had the taste of Yen's magic, but it was too unfocused, not her usual tight control. “Jaskier.” Geralt sprinted up the stairs to her bedroom and found the door open. “Jaskier!” he shouted. “Are you—”

“Finally, you're back.” Jaskier sat at Yennefer's dressing table, his voice quick and clipped, lips smeared with Yen's lipstick, his doublet and undershirt missing.

On the bed, Yennefer sat up, eyes wide and surprisingly vulnerable, lipstick smudged. “Thank fuck, Geralt!” She lept from the bed, not a single care for the way her robe flew open, giving Geralt a quick show. Colliding with his chest, Geralt suddenly had two soft breasts pushed right up against him, Jaskier looking on with a dramatic eye roll. “She's awful!” Yennefer whined. “Tried to get me to let her fuck me with my own cock! Rude!”

“This is all your fault in the first place,” Jaskier shot back. “Can't we just stick to the plan?”

“Plan? What? What the fuck is going on?” Geralt looked from Yennefer in his arms, to Jaskier across the room, cold and aloof in a way he'd never seen him.

Jaskier stood up and made his way over to them, hips swinging. The energy around him was fractured, and he didn't smell right, Yen didn't either. “Jaskier interrupted a spell I was trying and our consciousnesses switched. Should wear off in a few hours. In the mean time...” Jaskier opened the very loose ties on his breeches and pulled his cock out, stroking it lewdly, right in front of Yennefer. “We agreed to have a little fun until the spell wears off. Take off your clothes.”

Geralt looked down at the person in his arms. Yennefer's purple eyes looked back at him, but underneath, there was a softness she had never possessed, at least not in Geralt's presence. Geralt opened his mouth and said just about the most impossible thing he could imagine. “Jaskier?”

Tears welled and Yen—Jaskier—nodded. “Yes, it's me... in her. And not the way I'd like.”

“Oh, shut up.” Jaskier, no Yen, grabbed her body away from Geralt, Jaskier's eyes wide and pleading. Holding Jaskier in front of her, she rolled her hips, borrowed cock caressing the silk robe. “And stop crying, you'll ruin my make up.” She trailed a finger under Jaskier's eye, catching a tear before it got far enough to smudge. “We had a deal, remember? You get to go first.”

Two sets of eyes turned towards Geralt at the same time—blue eyes sharp and cunning, purple softer than he'd ever seen them. Yennefer, no, Jaskier, walked towards him again, taking his hands and pulling him towards the bed. “Yes, a small mishap. But we can while away the time, can't we?” Yennefer in Jaskier's body swooped around behind him, prodding him along.

Resisting one was hard enough, but both of them? “Wait, hold on. Tell me what happened.” He batted Jaskier's—Yen's—whoever's hands away from the buttons of his breeches. “You switched... bodies?”

“More like switched minds,” Yen said with Jaskier's lips. “I guess it's six of one, half a dozen of the other.” Jaskier's large hands settled on Geralt's shoulders and shoved. Yennefer was strong in her own right, had to be to last forever, but Jaskier had a different kind of hidden strength. His came in the form of lugging his lute around day and night, walking the Continent on foot, his muscles weren't as showy as Geralt's but they were definitely there, and Yennefer used them now to push Geralt onto the bed.

Jaskier—long black hair, soft skin, shapely legs—threw one of those legs across his hips, Yennefer settling on his other side, trying her damnedest to get him undressed. “If you must know, I was working on a spell to transfer my mind into a familiar to see through their eyes. Your fuck bard—”

“Sitting right here,” Jaskier spat, the sneer on Yen's face entirely too fitting. For both of them.

“Interrupted and my spell backfired. But I prepared for mistakes, the spell will end on its own in a few hours.” She got Jaskier's hand into Geralt's breeches and around his cock, and seemed content to leave the rest of his armor on.

Jaskier stepped in, pushing her hand away and straddling Geralt. His hands fell to hips as was his habit, and Geralt took a moment to appreciate the unusual squishy curves under his fingers. “You always do this,” Jaskier sniped at Yennefer. “I know you don't care for romance at all, but trust me, he's far more useful naked. All bound up in his armor makes him hard to ride.”

“Mmm, yes, I see your point. But we don't intend to ride him, now do we?”

They shared a look, dangerous eyes meeting a devious smile, and the unease in Geralt's stomach started to grow. Fuck the spell, Yennefer seemed to have that in hand, but what exactly were these plans they had for Geralt? “Jaskier, maybe we shouldn't—”

Jaskier pressed a finger to Geralt's lips to silence him. “If you think I'm going to waste looking this sexy, then you are a very dim man indeed. True, I didn't like her propositioning me, but I have no problem taking you while we're indisposed.”

Resigning himself to his fate (what other choice did he have? Yen could make his life a nightmare if he didn't give in to whatever scenario they concocted, Jaskier's revenge tendencies a close second) Geralt let them strip his armor and his clothing, piling it all at the foot of the bed to be taken care of later. Jaskier threw Yennefer's silk robe off his shoulders, exposing her breasts and, well, her everything. With Yennefer right there, watching through Jaskier's eyes, Geralt didn't feel bad about sliding his hands up and having a good grope.

Soft, creamy skin slid under his hands, nipples reacting to the slightest touch. “Uh,” Jaskier moaned. One hand cupping her breast, Geralt slid his other had down Jaskier's chest, between his legs, towards Yennefer's clit. Circling around and around, the noises got louder from there, dark waves of hair cascading down Jaskier's back as he moaned. “F-fuck, Geralt, how are you so good at that?”

“Witchers are taught to be the master of our craft. Any craft we set our minds to.” He had to admit, it was nice watching Yennefer break apart under his fingers (even if it wasn't her) she was always so cool in bed, demanding lips and hands taking what she wanted, Geralt simply holding on for the ride. Jaskier was much more accommodating, letting Geralt drive their pleasure at first before maneuvering them into a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Yennefer, passively watching up until now, pushed up on to her knees and leaned in close, lips almost brushing Jaskier's ear. “Now, now, don't let him distract you. Why don't we go get changed?” Why didn't Geralt like the sound of that?

He tried to latch a hand around Jaskier's hip, pull him closer, play with Yennefer's clit a little more, maybe work a few fingers inside. He was dying to see if Jaskier had the same sensitivities in Yen's body or if he reacted differently. But they both pushed his hands away, floating across the room and behind the curtain that probably led to a dressing room of some sort, leaving Geralt sprawled on the bed, cock hard, the smell of Yennefer's cunt all over him. Geralt often wondered what might happen the day Yennefer and Jaskier decided to put their differences aside and focus their shared manic energy on driving him crazy. He didn't mind being the first Witcher to die from irritation, as long as one of them was seated on his cock while it happened.

The curtain opened and Geralt pushed himself up on his elbows to see what fresh hell they brought to him.

The black leather contrasted with Yennefer's moon-pale skin, copper phallus jutting out, both obscene and sublime at the same time. Geralt had seen Yen's... marital aid before, he'd felt it in his ass and against his skin, heavy and cold at first, but quick to warm as she thrust inside him.

They made their way back over to the bed, Yennefer's eyes fond as she looked upon Jaskier wearing her strap, like a proud tutor after a student had a breakthrough. The too wide vulnerability in Jaskier's eyes was gone for the moment, replaced with the same swagger he had after a particularly good show, when he pushed Geralt onto the bed and had his wicked way with the Witcher.

Jaskier crawled onto the bed, the considerable copper cock brushing the sheets. “Now I feel a little more like myself.”

“I imagine so.” Geralt rolled over, peering over his shoulder. Watching Jaskier move in Yennefer's body was a sight to behold. Broader than he appeared at first glance, Jaskier was not a small man, yet he moved with the grace and fluidity one might see in a woman. Add Yennefer's curves on top of it all, and Jaskier wasn't a half bad imitation. The eyes gave him away though, they always did, they were too soft to mistake for Yen's, they'd seen the world just like her, but Jaskier chose to remember and enjoy the good parts while Yennefer and Geralt were forced to dwell in the darkness.

He grabbed a pillow and slid it under his hips just as a dainty hand pressed down on the small of his back. “You're sure you don't want to try something new? The spell won't last...” Just the idea of Yennefer's legs wrapped around him while Jaskier lingered behind her eyes had Geralt's cock twitching. Making love to either of them was an adventure Geralt wouldn't trade for the world, but they were so different, Jaskier bright and sunny in his passion, Yennefer as unforgiving as a storm. To see the sun shine in the midst of a heavy rain was a rare pleasure indeed.

“I think I know what I want,” Jaskier whispered. He kissed up Geralt's spine, smudging Yen's lipstick a little more. Sitting next to them, she rolled her eyes and bit her lip, almost subconsciously. “You can fix it later,” Jaskier grumbled. “Hell, you can do my make up afterwards, just let me have him the way I like.”

More kisses up Geralt's back, more red smudges, but Jaskier didn't care. Whenever Geralt offered his ass, he treated it like the gift it was, such a strong man opening himself up, giving over control for the moment and letting someone else worry about their pleasure. Alright, Jaskier was a bit more insistent than usual, but he blamed that on Yennefer. When she showed him the gleaming copper monster currently strapped to his wider than normal hips, Jaskier had never wanted anything more.

Oil appeared in his hand and Jaskier took a moment to examine his fingers, make sure Yennefer's nails weren't a problem. All neat and trimmed, he returned to the part of the task he was familiar with, slicking two fingers and sliding them down Geralt's crack, teasing a little before circling the puckered skin and pressing in.

They all moaned, even Yennefer, who was just watching. “I love the noises he makes,” she breathed.

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Jaskier said.

Geralt grunted for a very different reason. “Great, now you're in agreement. That's the last thing I need—fuck!”

Jaskier quirked his fingers. “Now, now, be nice.” He petted Geralt's back with his free hand and added another finger, working Geralt open nice and slow. Though he saw the size and shape of Yennefer's toy, it was not a size and shape Jaskier was accustomed to. Completely smooth and only a little tapered, harder and more unyielding than he was used to. A little extra prep never went amiss, and Geralt sounded like he was having a lovely time, moaning and twitching, fingers grabbing at the sheets.

When his hips started thrusting against the pillow, Jaskier figured he'd had enough and pulled his fingers out, dripping more oil on the strap. He probably used too much, but he liked a lot of slick, it made every push feel like silk. And Yennefer assured him, he would definitely feel it with her strap on. Resting the read against Geralt's hole, Jaskier pushed in.

Like so many times before, Geralt opened under him like they were made to be together. Her arched, but didn't shove back like he would with an actual cock, they had to go slow while Jaskier figured out the differences here, and what differences they were. The copper phallus felt like a part of him and totally separate at the same time. He felt the harness around his hips, the tug of it sitting _on_ his skin rather than as part of his body, and yet the slick heat of Geralt's hole grasped around him like always, muscles contracting as he slowly bottomed out.

“It's magic, remember?” Yennefer whispered in his ear, lips a little more chapped than he usually let them get. Now would be the time for him to lose control of his body, when he was at his most road weary, skin not as soft as usual. Yennefer hadn't said anything about it, she was too busy trying to convince Jaskier to let her fuck him. No thank you. Fucking Geralt, though, he was always down for that. “You feel it when you're inside...” No wonder she liked this thing.

Jaskier slid his hips back and thrust in again, still oh so slow. Yennefer huffed next to him, impatient for her turn, but Geralt groaned and shook under the slow pace. “She never...” he panted, “never goes this slow. Never lets me feel it.”

Well what a fucking surprise that was, Yennefer impatient, color Jaskier shocked. “Tell me how you like it,” he whispered with that too feminine voice. His own dulcet tones were fairly soft and a higher pitch than most men, but Yennefer's rich dark chocolate voice was still a change. As much fun as Geralt fondling her breasts had been, and no matter how much he enjoyed this contraption of hers, Jaskier was starting to miss his own hairy chest and thick cock. The thought of Geralt's lips wrapped around him made Jaskier gasp.

He pushed in a little faster, drawing back slow, letting Geralt feel every inch of Yennefer's toy. Tight muscles gripped around an organ Jaskier lacked at the moment and he tried not to let the thought melt his brain. His climax built deep inside, much deeper than usual, somewhere back near his spine. It burned brighter and brighter, almost within his reach.

Geralt shifted his hips to work a hand between him and the bed and Jaskier came. The sight of Geralt's impatience always pushed him over, it was like watching a patient tree finally give up waiting for the rain and walking to the nearest body of water, captivating and just as rare a sight. Pleasure exploded through his hips, sparking inside his cunt in a way it never did in his ass, so all encompassing, a total body experience.

Things were a little different once again, he couldn't bend forward over Geralt's back, the fucking fake cock didn't bend like that. Yennefer placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled Jaskier out, settling him back on the bed, legs shaking a little at the intensity of it all. “Fuck, is that what it's like every time?” he panted.

“Mmm, just about. Geralt's charms are particularly delectable.” Showing sweetness and consideration for perhaps the first time in her life, Yennefer unbuckled the leather straps from around Jaskier's hips, setting the toy in its proper place to be cleaned later. It was a good thing too, as he had no intention of moving for a while. Jaskier wasn't sure if his legs still worked.

Geralt rolled onto his back and gathered Jaskier to his chest, breasts pressing pleasingly against him. Yennefer hated cuddling, she was always ready to move onto the next thing, interrupting Geralt's few moments of afterglow. But Jaskier was pretty much made to cuddle. Once he came, he had about two minutes of helpful energy, which he used to clean up or fetch water, then melted into the bed, not to move until the next morning. Geralt was so ready to join his curvy bard in sleep until Yen's spell wore off.

“Oh,” a voice purred, “do you think we're finished?”

Jaskier sighed and pushed away from Geralt, his hands lingering until the last moment. “Yes, yes, you're right. Your turn.”

“Her turn? What am I? The village pony?”

“For the moment, yes.” Eyes focused on Geralt, Yennefer crawled back onto the bed, sweeping in close. A shiver ran down Geralt's spine. Rarely had he seen that look on Jaskier—the intense focus bordering on anger, mind set on a job that needed doing. She ran a hand down his side, Jaskier's lute callouses brushing here and there, a familiar touch, yet still unexpected. Yen liked to grab, not stroke. “You've already had it on your front, I think I want to look into your eyes when I fuck you with his cock.”

Geralt arched an eyebrow. “You don't want to try the other way? See what you're missing?”

Yennefer shook her head. “You've fucked my ass before, had that adventure. Now I want to see how my spell work is. How does my strap compare to the real thing?” Sitting up on her knees, Yennefer wrapped her hand around the base of Jaskier's cock, giving a few experimental strokes. “My strap only duplicates the feeling when it's inside someone. Do you need more oil?”

“Would be nice.” Resigning himself to the experiment (as if they both didn't do that already; Yen with her spells, Jaskier with his ballads) Geralt lay back on the bed and let his thighs fall open.

Jaskier moved over a little to give them room, but his eyes closely watched the proceedings. “Never thought about watching myself fuck him before...” he whispered.

“I have a large mirror if you'd like to do it again after we switch back,” Yen said, then got down to business. Dripping the oil over her fingers, she reached between Geralt's legs and quickly found her target. All the times Geralt took her strap, she was well versed in this part, and took a moment to watch his face flush, chest expand as his tried to steady himself with a deep breath. She eyed his already hard cock and smiled. “You are so close to the perfect mate, always up whenever I need it...”

Geralt chuckled, but didn't comment and slumped back on the bed, tilting his hips just right. “That's good enough,” he said. “Jaskier's cock is nice, but not as big as that thing you like to use.”

Yennefer had to admin, Jaskier's cock was quite the specimen. No one could compare to a Witcher, but Jaskier came close, his less-than-courtly courtly reputation well deserved. She tried to focus on the task in front of her—namely, Geralt's ass and how much she wanted to be inside of it—but the physical sensations in this borrowed body were fucking distracting. Jaskier's hands slipped against Geralt with the extra oil, which only made the cock twitch more in anticipation, tingling pleasure shooting down through her legs and coalescing between them, in a cock and balls itching for some action.

Using the rest of the oil, she spread it over the cock in front of her and couldn't hold back the little moan. The tight pressure between her legs magnified, hips jerking out of her control. She wanted to fuck, wanted to put this cock inside someone right now. Lining up with Geralt's hole, she pushed in. He arched, angling his hips to take more faster, they both wanted it faster, wanted to feel firm flesh against flesh.

Yennefer slid all the way in and groaned, Geralt's hand on her side, rubbing up and down, far more tender than he usually was. Well, than he was with her. Even though it was her behind the bard's eyes, Geralt had a certain way he treated this body, his muscle memory pushing him to follow their normal pattern. She took a moment to breath through the tightness around her, hotter and more gripping than she imagined. The spell on her toy matched pretty well, but she definitely saw room for improvement.

Sensing her busy mind overworking itself, Geralt cupped a hand around the back of her neck, bringing her eyes down. “You love fucking me, so do it, don't think about it.”

Yennefer nodded and slowly pulled her hips back, feeling every grasping inch of Geralt around her cock. “Oh, shit...” she moaned.

Geralt kept his hand on the back of her neck. He was used to touching Jaskier like this and Yennefer hadn't pushed him away yet. He caught her gaze and held it as she thrust in and drew back, connecting with her in a new way. “Kiss me?” he whispered.

Yennefer leaned down and let Geralt drive the kiss, his tongue licking along her bottom lip before entering her mouth. Geralt tasted of strawberries, clearly he found some growing wild on his trip to fetch her ingredients. She moaned and sucked on his tongue, wringing more of that strawberry brightness from him.

A new intensity bubbled up inside her, spreading through her pelvis before concentrating in the shaft of her cock. The more she pushed into Geralt, the more intense it got, a bright spark of energy filling the tip. A shudder ran through her shoulders and Yennefer came, spilling inside Geralt's ass and shouting her climax into his mouth. Geralt drank down her moans, licking her lips and pulling her closer. She kissed back as well as she could, pleasure clouding her mind until it was all too much.

Too sensitive, Yennefer pulled out and barely managed to roll away before collapsing onto the bed. “Good?” Geralt asked.

She nodded, Jaskier's too fluffy hair clinging to her sweaty brow. “Yes. Very good.”

Though he was technically the most active party in all of this, Geralt got up and retrieved a cool cloth, wiping them both down and returning to the bed. Settled between then with Yennefer's soft breasts pressed against one side, Jaskier's spent cock and lax muscles on the other, Geralt closed his eyes and joined them in sleep. Hopefully, when they all woke, they'd be back to normal, sniping away like nothing had happened.

Several Hours Earlier...

“What. Have. You. _Done!_ ”

Jaskier closed his eyes to block out the intense light, and when he opened them again, he was on the other side of the room staring at himself. One look at his hands and he shrieked, a higher pitched noise than he was used to. Slender fingers topped with black polish met his eyes, along with slim wrists no where near prepared to play a lute. He gulped in air, trying not to panic and failing miserably, and felt a new weight on his chest. It wasn't the weight of anxiety, but his chest itself. He had breasts!

“What have I done?” his own voice snapped back at him. Across the room, he looked back at himself, lip curling in disgust. “You're the one who interrupted my spell!”

“The door was open! I thought you were done with whatever you needed quiet for!” Grabbing hold of his hair, Jaskier shrieked in horror when there was so much of it—curly and bouncy, not soft and fluffy like normal. How was Geralt supposed to pet him now as he whispered sweet nothings into his ear?

“Calm down,” the other Jaskier snapped. “We've just switched consciousness, it'll wear off in a few hours.” Suspicions confirmed then: Jaskier was in Yennefer's body, and she was defiling his. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a mirror over the dressing table, but he dared not look, there was still a chance this was some horrible nightmare and he'd wake up soon. “And wipe that look off my face. If you start crying—”

“I might just do that!” Jaskier was a man who lived in his emotions—happy, sad, angry, distraught—he wore them all openly and without shame, and right now seemed like the perfect time to cry.

Frowning a little, Yennefer crossed the room, extending a hand towards Jaskier. _My own hand_ , he thought before taking it. “We need to stay calm. Geralt will be back soon, and the spell will wear off before morning, then you two can go on your merry way.”

“Fine.” Jaskier sighed and resigned himself to an unpleasant afternoon. A chill shot between his legs and he squeezed them together, suddenly noticing Yennefer's lack of clothing, the silk robe really was the long and short of it. “Do you have anything that isn't wafer thin? I'm freezing.”

Yennefer's hand held his, pulling him forward a little. The new center of gravity (both his wide hips and the heavy breasts) made him tip forward into waiting arms. Yennefer licked her lips, a cold sort of lust in her now blue eyes. “How about we take that off instead? I've never thought of fucking myself, but I really am very attractive.” She swiped an errant curl out of Jaskier's eyes. “Might be your only chance to say you conquered Yennefer of Vengerberg, got a leg over, after a fashion...” She wrapped her other hand around his jaw, pulling him close enough to kiss.

The instant he felt her lips against his, Jaskier pulled free of her grasp, smearing the paint on her face, a bright red smudge on his own now. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his face smeared with lipstick, he'd been with Geralt so long... Gathering the nearly sheer robe around his legs, he hissed at her. “No! No fucking way I am letting you use _my_ cock to fulfill your deviant fantasies!”

“If anyone around here is deviant, it's you. I'm not taking it up the ass from every Witcher on the Continent.” It was a low blow, and a bit unfair. Yennefer had seen Eskel and Lambert, given the correct amount of wine, and possibly a blow to the head, she wouldn't say never.

“Well, I know you've taken it from at least one of them!” Jaskier snapped back. And once again, the White Wolf hung between them, the man they both loved but couldn't wholly possess.

Yennefer sighed and threw up her hands. “Truce. I call a truce until you two leave town. You don't want me to use your cock on my body, fine.” The gleam in her eye was back, her tongue sliding across her teeth. “How about using mine on his?”

Jaskier tried to follow the twists in that sentence—he had a lot on his mind at the moment, Yennefer's supply thighs under his hands, how fucking cold his cunt was right now, too much really—and he gave up. “What exactly are you suggesting?” Yennefer led him over to a curtain on the other side of the room. In the dressing area, she pulled a wooden box from a shelf and placed it in front of Jaskier, opening the lid.

Nestled in a cushion of black velvet, a gleaming copper phallus shined out at Jaskier. She lifted the velvet to reveal another layer to the box, this contained a tangle of leather straps and buckles, with a large O ring holding it all together at the center. The ring looked wide enough to slip the copper through. “Is this—” Jaskier started.

“Yes, it is.” She swept in close, lips brushing his ear. “It's magic, you feel it when you're inside him.”

“Mmm, that's...” _Interesting_. “He's told me a little—the damn unicorn, for starters—but he's never mentioned this.” Jaskier couldn't look away from the shining copper, almost as thick around as Geralt. Did she make it that way on purpose? Or did she own this little item _before_ meeting Geralt? “He enjoys it?”

Yennefer chuckled, the warm sound a contrast to the chill she usually held around her. “One thing I will say for our Geralt, if he likes something, he's not shy of vocalizing said preference.” Wasn't that the truth? Jaskier still got off to the memory of Geralt coming apart the first time he licked his asshole. They almost got kicked out of that inn, if he remembered correctly, for the noise. Totally worth another night in the woods to watch Geralt writhe and moan on his tongue alone.

“Do you want me to show you how to use it?” she asked.

“Yes I do.”

The straps were a little awkward at first, but once the leather warmed up on his skin, Jaskier almost forgot they were there. Plan in place— “You can go first as long as I get to watch you fuck him with my strap” —they settled in opposite areas of the bedroom and waited for Geralt's return.

They heard the front door open and Yennefer's blue eyes slid across to Jaskier. “Show time.”

~

When Geralt awoke, it was dark out and Yennefer and Jaskier were still asleep. He tried to remove himself from the bed but Jaskier's hand wrapped around his bicep, pulling him back down into the sleepy mound. “Mmm, not yet...” he mumbled.

A few moments went by and Jaskier started to stir. He held his breath, waiting to see who might look out at him when those eyes finally opened...

Jaskier rolled onto his back and stretched, trailing a hand down his chest. Soft chest hair curled around his fingers and his eyes flew open. The hand traveled down farther, wrapping around his cock. “Yes!” he shouted.

Yennefer startled awake, glaring at them with bleary eyes, her make up still smudged. “The fuck?”

“We're back!” Suddenly filled with energy, Jaskier rolled onto Geralt, rubbing his hands, face and cock all over the Witcher. “Oh yes, I've never missed my cock more. Geralt, suck me off? I need to make sure it's real.”

While Geralt was more than happy to go back to sleep, Yennefer's groan made the decision for him. If their truce was still in order, then she couldn't complain if he let Jaskier straddle his face, now could she? Urging the bard up, Geralt opened his mouth and sucked him down, moaning at the strong fingers tangled in his hair.

The bed dipped and Yennefer headed for the door, her lovely backside still on full display. “I'm sleeping in a guest room tonight. See you in the morning.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this kind of broke my brain from the pronoun madness alone, so sorry if it was hard to follow. It was hard to write and keep track of who exactly was touching/possessing Jaskier's cock in each scene.
> 
> I don't wear make up, I have no idea how easy or hard it is to smear lipstick, I just liked the idea of Yennefer's lipstick getting fucking wrecked. And in TW3, Geralt does mention that she's the only woman who puts her face on before fucking, might be a thing for her...


End file.
